


i'll take you back (a thousand times again)

by joshllyman



Series: We Keep Meeting (Team 29 Balls to the the Face Sportsfest 2020 "Reunion" Main Round) [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Mentioned Kuroo Tetsurou, Mentioned Yamaguchi Tadashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman
Summary: If Akaashi Keiji were to look at his soulmate, he'd see all the lives they lived together in the past. He would know, instantly, that this is the person the universe has designated for him to be tied to for all eternity.But Akaashi Keiji won't look at his soulmate, because he doesn't look at anyone at all.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: We Keep Meeting (Team 29 Balls to the the Face Sportsfest 2020 "Reunion" Main Round) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814893
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76
Collections: SportsFest 2020 Main Round 1





	i'll take you back (a thousand times again)

**Author's Note:**

> main round one, entry one for sportsfest! this fic has an accompanying playlist, which you can find [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2pYCyhy9i51fLlPVt5Jtx2?si=RBZroDqOTz6jcSfd6zz95g)

You have to see your soulmate in order to know they’re your soulmate. That’s why Akaashi Keiji keeps his eyes glued firmly to the ground.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to find his soulmate, exactly; he merely finds his work for the goddess Kisshouten more important. He was dedicated to her service as a child, and though his family was never quite so devout, he believes he will have the best fortune if he stays under her care. 

By twenty-two, all of the other children who came to serve at Kisshouten’s shrine at the same time as Akaashi have left, replaced by children who haven’t yet found their soulmates and aren’t yet old enough to marry. Akaashi has no other place to go. He hasn’t spoken to his parents in years. As far as he’s concerned, his soulmate could just as easily be halfway across the world. There’s no point in relying on something so intangible as the concept of true love. He’s always preferred the concrete: the scent of incense burning on the altar, the breeze of blessing as he prays, the crunch of leaves under his feet as he makes his way from his assigned house to the shrine in the autumn mornings. These are the things he knows to be true, and he refuses to take them for granted.

“You know, it’s kind of strange.” Akaashi is walking back toward the housing units with another of Kisshouten’s servants, Hinata Shouyou. Hinata is sixteen or so, due to end his time in service soon. He has always looked up to Akaashi, metaphorically if not literally. Akaashi has never once looked him in the eyes. “You’re devoted to the goddess of beauty, right?”

“Kisshouten stands for much more than simple beauty, Hinata,” Akaashi chides him. “You know this.”

“Beauty, fertility, happiness,” Hinata continues. “Wouldn’t you be happier if you tried to find your soulmate?”

“There is no way of knowing that,” Akaashi responds. It’s not the first time he’s had this talk with someone, not even the first time he’s had it with Hinata. “I’m perfectly happy the way I am, Hinata. I intend to spend my days here in Her service. I don’t need a soulmate.”

“You’re not saying you don’t believe in reincarnation, are you?”

“Of course I believe in reincarnation, I’m just saying—”

“Shouyou!” calls a loud voice, and Akaashi manages to suppress his groan just in time.

“Bokkun!” Hinata yells back. He’s off before Akaashi can finish his thought.

There’s a grunt that is probably the sound of Bokuto catching Hinata, who tends to throw himself at other people. He’s done it enough with Bokuto that Akaashi is relatively certain he’ll be caught and he doesn’t feel the need to say anything.

“And hello, Akaaaaaashi,” Bokuto says, drawing out the sound like he always does.

“You know you aren’t meant to be back here, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi sighs. 

“Since when have I been one to follow the rules, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto asks. There’s laughter in his tone as he wraps an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders. “And if you didn’t want me back here, you’d kick me out.”

“Has it never occurred to you that my citing the rules to you, time and again, is my way of attempting to kick you out?” Akaashi asks dryly.

“If that’s really all you’ve got, that’s pretty weak.” Bokuto laughs, a booming sound that echoes through the trees. “Anyway, Shouyou and I have a game scheduled for today!”

“Yep!” Shouyou affirms. 

Akaashi suppresses another sigh. At least if Hinata and Bokuto are occupied with each other, neither of them are bothering Akaashi, who has scrolls he needs to write up this evening.

“You wanna join us, ‘Kaashi? It’ll be really fun. We’ll find a way where you can play without having to look up, even.”

Bokuto has always been kind about Akaashi’s strange tendencies, much kinder than the other people in the village. It’s one of the reasons Akaashi allows him to spend time on what is technically the shrine’s land, even though it’s meant to only be accessed by Her devoted ones. 

“Try not to cause too much destruction, Hinata,” Akaashi says as an answer. “And Bokuto-san, that goes double for you.”

Bokuto laughs again. It’s a pleasant sound; Bokuto has always sounded kind, happy, upbeat. Akaashi likes that he wears his emotions so plainly in his voice. It makes him easy to imagine.

“You got it, ‘Kaashi. No trouble here. Only fun. C’mon, Shouyou.”

The leaves crunch underneath their feet as they walk away. For a single moment, Akaashi contemplates going after them, looking up the way he hasn’t looked up in years.

The wind blows, and he continues his journey back to his house.

***

“Hey there, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says softly. “I’m sitting, it’s okay to look up.”

A smile almost plays across Akaashi’s lips as he looks out the window. All he sees are the other houses and the trees in the distance. Bokuto is probably sitting just to one side or the other of the window, or maybe laying beneath it. He’d picked up the habit years ago, and for some reason Akaashi’s never been able to tell him to go away.

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” he answers. “How was your game with Hinata?”

“It was great!” Bokuto answers, his voice loud in the quiet of the evening. “We tossed around this ball and tried to see who could slap it the hardest.”

“That sounds painful,” Akaashi observes.

“Nah, it was great! Although I guess my hands are pretty red.”

“Hinata is back with the others?”

“Yep! Tadashi was giving him a hard time when I left.”

Akaashi sets down his quill. “Thank you, Bokuto-san. I appreciate that you take such good care of him and the others.”

“Of course! Wouldn’t want ‘em to get hurt or anything.”

Bokuto is up here most evenings, talking to Akaashi or spending time with the younger devotees. He’s a blacksmith by trade, and from what Akaashi’s heard he’s the finest blacksmith for several towns in any direction. He’s heard Bokuto mention friends before, but he still makes the trek to the top of the village almost every night.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says suddenly. “Why did you start coming up to the shrine at night?”

Bokuto doesn’t answer for a moment. When he does, it’s not the answer Akaashi expects.

“I’m not the most devout follower of any god, but I think you knew that about me,” he begins. “I visit all the shrines at holidays and festivals and stuff, but nothing ever really stuck with me, you know? Well, I guess you wouldn’t know. It did stick for you.”

“It did,” Akaashi agrees.

“Well, anyway. Everyone in the village talks about you. I don’t think they understand. When you told me why you don’t look at people, I understood. If...if there was a chance that person couldn’t love you back, or if they did and they got hurt, or you got hurt, then wouldn’t it be easier to just never know at all?”

Here he pauses. Akaashi wishes, not for the first time, that he could see Bokuto’s face. He has a hard time filling in these gaps in conversation. Would Bokuto be looking at him? Or looking away? Would he be smiling? Or would he be sad?

“They say you’re lonely, Akaashi,” Bokuto says. “And I was worried about you.”

“You were worried about someone you’d never met?” Akaashi asks.

“Yeah,” Bokuto answers. He sighs. “I was lonely a lot as a kid, too. Everyone always said I was too loud and annoying.”

“You’re not annoying,” Akaashi says immediately, although he can’t really disagree with the accusation of loud.

Bokuto laughs. “Thanks, Akaashi. I’m glad you don’t think so. People always say I mess up what they mean. Like if they’re just joking around, I don’t always get that. But you always just say what you mean, and I really like that about you.”

Akaashi picks his quill back up and twirls it in his hands.

“I...really like you, Akaashi,” Bokuto says. 

Akaashi’s heart drops out of his stomach.

“You don’t have to say it back or anything!” Bokuto says quickly. “I know you’re gonna spend your whole life here, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it at all, I just—you asked, and—”

“It’s okay, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, but his voice comes out warped. He feels like he’s hearing himself from across the clearing. “It’s alright.”

For a few moments Bokuto doesn’t say anything at all. Akaashi wishes he could find something to say, anything at all, anything true—

“You should look away,” Bokuto says. “I’m gonna go.”

“Bokuto-san—”

“Bye, Akaashi.”

Akaashi turns his eyes downward, and he doesn’t look up again for a long time.

***

Rain is pelting hard against the windows when Akaashi wakes the next morning.

He groans as he rolls over in his bed. He’d finished seven scrolls the night before, haunted by the conversation he’d had with Bokuto and too rattled to sleep, only doing so when the last of the light from his candle was extinguished.

He’ll have to walk quickly, he supposes as he gets dressed, if he wants to save the scrolls from the rain. He could try to shove them under his tunic, but that will probably make it more awkward to carry, and then it will be slower. He’ll have to simply hurry and hope for the best.

He gathers them all up, says a quick prayer, and begins to run.

It must have started raining right after he went to bed, because the puddles are already quite deep. The bottom of his robe is getting caked in mud, and he’ll have to scrub it out when laundry day comes. He’s already regretting even getting out of bed this morning when his foot collides with a rock.

He knows this rock. He has to walk around it every day. He just...didn’t, today, apparently.

He swears under his breath as he tumbles to the ground.

Scrolls go flying everywhere; they’ll likely be permanently ruined, muddy as it is. Akaashi himself goes face first into a puddle. His foot is throbbing where it jammed into the rock, he was soaked even before he fell, and—

“Akaashi?”

And apparently Bokuto’s here.

“Not now, please,” Akaashi says. He struggles to right himself, but shortly there are a pair of hands grabbing his waist. “Bokuto-san, please.”

“You fell,” Bokuto says. “Your foot is bleeding, by the way.”

Akaashi lifts up the hem of his robe to find that he is, in fact, bleeding. He swears again.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Can you help me pick up these scrolls, then? I have to try to salvage what I can.”

Akaashi can only assume he does so, because his hands leave Akaashi’s waist. They get them all picked up, and Akaashi begins to hobble toward the shrine.

“I can take those, if you want,” Bokuto offers, suddenly at his side again. “Or I could help you walk, or—”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Akaashi interrupts.

The two of them make their way to the shrine. Bokuto is strangely silent, and Akaashi considers looking up just to make sure he’s still there and hasn’t wandered off with the scrolls. But alongside the splashing of his own feet, he hears the splashing of Bokuto’s, and he knows the other man is still there.

When they reach the shrine Akaashi takes the scrolls Bokuto had picked up. He’s about to go inside when Bokuto says, “At least let me take a look at your foot.”

Akaashi sighs. “Do what you like, but do it quickly. I was already late.”

Akaashi looks at the ceiling of the shrine as Bokuto examines his foot. His touch is tender, gentle. It’s nothing like what Akaashi expected, since Bokuto has been described to him on multiple occasions as “big” and “clumsy.” He stops the bleeding and wraps Akaashi’s foot in something. 

“You should at least be able to get home like that,” Bokuto says. “I’m gonna stand now, just so you know, don’t look down. You can wrap it in something tighter at home, and you should. My friend Tetsurou, he got an infection once because he sliced his finger on something and dirt got into it.”

He hears Bokuto stand and take a step back, so he closes his eyes and tilts his head downward. When he opens them he finds a decent looking bandage on his foot. 

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says quietly. “I appreciate your help today.”

“Anytime, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto answers. “I’m...I’m always here for you.”

The catch in his voice makes Akaashi pause. He seems so distant; Akaashi wonders if the conversation from the night before is weighing on him, too. A weird sort of tingling makes its way down Akaashi’s spine.

“I should go,” Bokuto says, and it’s even further away, even more wrong, that Akaashi knows he has to do something, knows there has to be a way to bring the smile back to Bokuto’s voice, except he doesn’t even know what’s caused the smile to leave.

“Bokuto-san…” Akaashi says.

And he looks up.

In front of his eyes flash innumerable lives before. In past lifetimes, he has known this face. He has known these arms, strong and tender, these hands, large and calloused. He has known this smile, has known this mouth against his own, has known this body pressed to his. Lives together, lives apart, lives where they found each other only to be torn away by circumstances beyond their control, lives where they were neighbors and spent all their years together. Akaashi knows them all, now, and he brings his hand up to cover his mouth.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto whispers. He falls to his knees in front of him.

“Bokuto-san...Koutarou…” Keiji reaches out and touches his face, and even though he has never done this before, he has done this before. The memory of the stubble against his hand is as fresh as if he’s experienced it a thousand times in this lifetime. “You’re always here for me.”

“Yes,” Koutarou agrees. There are tears heavy on his lashes, and Keiji brushes a thumb over them. “Akaashi—”

“Please call me Keiji,” Keiji says. “Please.”

“Keiji,” Koutarou repeats, and Keiji’s never heard anything more beautiful.

“You never said anything,” Keiji whispers. “You’ve known for all this time and you never said anything.”

Koutarou scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t want you to look at me just because I asked. I wanted you to be ready.”

“Koutarou,” Keiji murmurs. He throws himself into Koutarou’s arms, and Koutarou holds him like he’s done a hundred, a thousand, a million times before, and like he will every day for the rest of their lives. “I’m so, so sorry for making you wait all this time. Please forgive me.”

“I wasn’t lying last night,” Koutarou says. “I really did come up because I heard you were lonely. But when I saw you, well. You know what happened. But I didn’t want to force you, Keiji. And I didn’t want you to think I was tricking you into looking at me. And you really are easier to talk to than anyone else. And maybe that is just because we’re soulmates, but I think it’s just you, Keiji. I think you’re just good.”

“Koutarou,” Keiji buries his face in Koutarou’s neck. “I’ve wanted to look at you for so long, but I was scared. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Koutarou tightens his grip on Keiji’s waist. “We were still together all this time, weren’t we? You never turned me away, even though you had every right to. Just because you didn’t know we were soulmates until now doesn’t mean all the time we’ve had together doesn’t count.”

“I love you,” Keiji says, and here’s how he knows this is true: because it’s been true before, and it will be true again. He knows it in what can only be described as his soul, and that’s more than enough.

Somewhere above them, the goddess Kisshouten is smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Kisshouten is a deity still worshipped in Japan today. You can read more about her [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kissh%C5%8Dten).  
> The title for this fic comes from one of the songs on the playlist, "Slow Your Breath Down" by Future of Forestry. The title for the series comes from "Right Hand Man" from _Hamilton_.  
> My socials are at joshllyman.carrd.co


End file.
